Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [120]
It was a hunch. I read an article in Essence magazine, written by its editor, Susan L. Taylor. I was so moved by the article, I wanted to write her. I discussed the idea with my dear friend Marjorie Battle, who lived in New York. Marge and I were always making plans about my career. She thought it was an excellent idea. We composed the letter over the telephone. Marge typed it on “good” paper and sent it to me by mail. I signed the letter and mailed it to Ms. Taylor. The few people I told about it said I would never get a response. Two weeks later, I got a call from Ms. Taylor’s office. She wanted to meet with me to discuss the possibility of the magazine doing my story. Essence sent me a ticket, and had a car pick me up at the train station. I had never been in a limousine that was not going to a funeral.
Standing in the doorway of her office, Susan Taylor did not know that I had on a homemade suit. She did not know that the jewelry I was wearing was borrowed. She did not know that my daughter had bought my pantyhose and underwear with the paycheck she earned working at McDonald’s. She did not know that my rent wasn’t paid and that my telephone was about to be disconnected. The glamorous Susan Taylor, editor-in-chief of the largest magazine ever published for black women, took one look at me and said, “Come here and give me a hug. We have been looking for you for a long time.” Susan had heard me speak at a retreat several months earlier. She said she was interested in my story.
Essence paid me and sent me to Los Angeles. Bebe Moore Campbell interviewed me and wrote the story. It appeared in an issue of the magazine with Diana Ross on the cover. I bought twenty-five copies, laid them out on the floor in front of me, and cried over them. Essence said that the story elicited more response than any other story in the history of the magazine. People began to call me for speaking engagements. The literary agent called back and introduced me to a small independent publisher who redesigned and published Tapping the Power.
Within four months, my life was moving in a direction that I had never imagined possible. Iyanla was emerging through a slow, often painful process. My lessons were grounded in an inability to love myself, to trust myself, and to believe that I was worthy. This inability manifested itself in issues with money. I had success etched into my soul. God put it there. It was my nature. But I had been programmed for failure. I believed what Grandma told me. I believed that I would never amount to anything. Although I was doing the work and enjoying it, I kept waiting for something bad to happen.
The Iyanla I had become was still very sensitive to and overly concerned about criticism. Every decision I made had to be confirmed and affirmed by at least five other people. I needed external validation. I learned a great deal by attending workshops and reading books, but I had not learned how to integrate what I was learning into my own spirit. Although I had chosen to be celibate, I was yearning and looking for the love of a man to make me feel whole. While it appeared to the world that she was a bright and rising star, Iyanla wrestled with feelings of inferiority and worthlessness. At least once a day, I felt like six-year-old Rhonda, cowering in the corner. There were things in my past that I had not healed. There were things in my heart that I believed about myself and could not face. It was a recipe for failure. The only thing that helped and saved me was my ability to see and hear Spirit.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
What’s the Lesson When You Get the Lesson but Don’t Know What to Do With It?
Truth must be realized individually. It must be realized by you, otherwise it is not your Truth. Only your Truth, not the truth, is expressed in your life, not anyone else’s. How do you find your